


Looking On (in fear)

by ComplimentaryCuller



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Codependency, Friendship, Gen, POV Outsider, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Vicious Beatdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 02:48:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14299122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComplimentaryCuller/pseuds/ComplimentaryCuller
Summary: For if the quarterback had gotten w#at was coming to #im 3>:33





	Looking On (in fear)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Looking In](https://archiveofourown.org/works/707592) by [Changeling_Serenade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Changeling_Serenade/pseuds/Changeling_Serenade). 



Once, the schools quarterback/head cheerleader couple broke up, and the head cheerleader went and asked Egbert out as a last 'fuck you' to her ex. Naturally, John had said no. Naturally, the quarterback hadn't cared and decided to get revenge anyway. By locking Egbert in a janitor’s closet.

The school learned two things that afternoon. One- John Egbert was horribly, cripplingly claustrophobic. Two- you do not, repeat: not, mess with any member of that foursome.

You saw the aftermath of that particular incident due to the fact that you were going back to class from the bathroom. It was one of the most terrifying things you'd ever seen in your life.

Strider was kneeling on the ground next to John. Strider had his arms linked with the other boy's and was pulling them behind his back, using his own body to stop Egbert from thrashing and hurting himself. Egbert's back was up against Dave's chest at that point, and he was speaking in a low voice, guiding John back to reality and calm.

And the girls?

You hadn’t thought anyone could be so fast.

Their eyes flashed, strangely bright and inhuman for a moment, and it seemed like Harley damn near _teleported,_ coming up behind Mister Quarterback, _fast,_ and sweeping his legs out from under him with a kick, unbalancing him just in time for Lalonde to grab his wrist in mid-air and flip him _completely over her head,_ slamming him into the ground on his back, knocking the breath out of him. Harley _leapt_ for him like a wolf, fists crashing down onto his face like a hail of bullets, and Lalonde stomped so hard on his arm you heard a ‘crack!’ all the way from across the hall, just as Harley punched him in the throat, stifling his would-be-scream. Lalonde walked over calmly to his desperately kicking legs, and grabbed his ankle, before bringing her other fist down on his knee cap so hard _the bone punctured the skin as it shattered, oh god oh god oh god_ \- and Harley punched him in the throat again, perfectly in time with her like it’d been rehearsed. Her next hit to the temple knocked him out cleanly.

They looked at you in unison, and your heart dropped into your stomach so fast you swear to god you felt the acid slash against your esophagus.

Lalonde stepped over the quarterback’s unconscious body, Harley standing and wiping her bloody hands and face off -where’d she get that cloth? Oh god you’re going to die- and immediately going to where Egbert and Strider were holding each other, breathing in time with him and speaking quietly under breath to him.

Lalonde smiled at you, and even though it looked as kind and sincere as any you’d ever seen, you felt a jolt of terror.

“What did you just see happen?” she asked sweetly.

Your mouth was dry from fear, throat closed up in terror.

She smiled wider. “I believe our good friend over there fell down the stairs,” she said conversationally, as if you were at a _fucking garden party_ and not the scene of where she and a friend had beaten a guy half to death. “He fell rather badly, in fact, but not _quite_ enough to forget what happened. Don’t you worry; we’ll inform the office of the circumstances.” She was closer, somehow, like she’d drifted forward soundlessly. “And _remember_ what you _did not see.”_

The ‘or else’ was implied, and you swallowed hard and nodded like a bobble head.

She smiled kindly, even as she wiped blood off her hands, and then rushed over to Egbert, humming a haunting refrain to him sweetly, and looked over at you. “I believe I told you it was taken care of.” Her tone is unruffled, and she turned back to Egbert, the four wrapping their arms around each other like it was all that kept them from falling apart.

You ran all the way back to your class.

The quarterback said nothing after he got back from the hospital.

He quit the football team soon after.

And no one _ever_ so much as touched any of them again, even in passing.


End file.
